


When I was your man

by MoiraShipper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowemi, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-21 01:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12447016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraShipper/pseuds/MoiraShipper
Summary: 8x17 Crowley and Naomi are reunited after centuries and now he is King of Hell and the angel is with Bartholomew.





	When I was your man

**Author's Note:**

> Comments please

_Should've gave you all my hours_

_When I had the chance_

_Take you to every party._

_Cause all you wanted to do was dance_

_Now my girl baby's dancing_

_But she's dancing with another man_

**When I was your man-Bruno Mars**

 

Crowley entered Lucifer’s crypt and disguised his shock to see the angel Naomi, beautiful and bureaucrat Naomi there.

"Naomi... Fancy meeting you here." Crowley said, walking toward her and smiling, watching the brown hair tied in a bun and a fringe, wearing a gray suit that accentuated her. "Haven’t seen you in a dark age. Loved the haircut."

The angel seemed to breathe deeply, trying to hide that she seemed to be shaken by the presence of the king of hell there, so confident and elegant in his suit and tie, with beard.

"How's the shoulder?" She asked, folding her arms and watching the cut on it, made by a demon blade.

Crowley was surprised at the touch of concern hidden in her efficient voice and looked down at his shoulder before looking back into her blue eyes.

"Just a flesh wound." She stared at him, her lips pursed and he remembered the times his lips had been over them and in so many other parts of her body and he said with his hands in his pockets: "Now, I don’t have the tablet, and if you’re here, neither do you. "

She looked away, pressing her lips even more, hating the fact that she had lost the tablet and Castiel, after all she had always liked being in control.

"Which means that your Castiel is in the wind with our prize. If I didn’t know you better, I'd say you’re losing your touch."

"Castiel isn’t in the wind, he's doing exactly what he’s supposed to do." She lied and raised an eyebrow, confident. "Protecting the tablet."

"Even you?" That made her angrier. "Easy, love, if you remember our time in Mesopotamia the way I do, you know I'm a lover, not a fighter." He said with a flash of passion in his eyes and Naomi averted her eyes for a moment, shivering, before looking at him and demanding loudly:

"What do you want, you cockroach?" And he smiled, staring at her and walking away.

"I know that even for an angel, after you have experienced certain acts and sensations a few centuries ago, your vessel still wants to feel them again, release some of your stress..." He said seductively, approaching her, until they were separated only a few inches and he saw her chest rise and fall, while her rosy lips parted and she managed to say:

"I won’t… I won’t embark on this sin with you again."

"Why? Because I’m a demon and I didn’t accept to get my soul back and that would be against the rules of the book of angels?" He asked, lifting a hand and caressing the back of her neck, releasing her hair from the clip and feeling the softness of the hair he so admired. "Always the bureaucrat."

"Don’t call me that, Crowley!" She hated being called that, and the only one who seemed to have the courage to call her that was him. Bureaucrat sounded efficient, but also cold, and that she wasn’t.

Her blue eyes sparkled, but she didn’t remove his hand, just turned her face away, looking at the stones in the crypt.

"And it's not just because of that, but it's because Bartholomew and I do it now." Naomi said, staring back at him and Crowley was shocked, letting his hand fall and his true, red, smoky form twisted with hatred for the other angel.

"Bartholomew?"

"He's one of the angels of my faction." She admitted it and was surprised with herself for lifting her hand and touching the demon's cheek, who frowned at her, and felt his beard.

Though Bartholomew was an angel who thought like her, he wasn’t Crowley and there wasn’t the passion the demon made her feel when they had been together in Mesopotamia, but she knew there was nothing she could do for Crowley if he didn’t want to help himself.

She then laid a kiss on his lips and Crowley corresponded, holding her chin, his tongue invading her mouth and she rested her other hand on his chest, her fingers running there as he pressed his chest to hers, soft.

When they parted, their eyes glittering as they stared at each other, after that bittersweet kiss and Naomi kept her hand on his chest.

That emptiness he felt, bigger now, was the closest to his humanity that he could reach without his soul, knowing that his former partner, who, though was an angel who knew no feelings, had passion within her that no other creature had awakened in him, but now she was with another angel, she was no longer his and Crowley knew that it was precisely because he’d refused to have his soul back.

"Naomi ..." Crowley pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and she didn’t pull away, breathing deeply and closing her eyes too, feeling his skin against hers and remembering her skin moving against his centuries ago.

"And does he satisfy you?" He asked in a low, frustrated voice, his hand covering hers on his cheek and then, lowering it and placing a kiss on her hand, his eyes still closed, Naomi smiled sadly:

"No... Not like you Crowley."

And then, still in that position with their foreheads pressed together and their eyes closed, each one disappeared, going to their jobs.


End file.
